In Bogor, West Java, there is a modest-looking house. The walls are worn, the yard is narrow, and there are only a few pieces of furniture inside. But for dozens of children with disabilities, this place is their only home—a place where they are seen, loved, and valued as whole human beings.

Inside the house lives an elderly woman named Sister Theresia. She is 63 years old, yet her body still moves energetically—sweeping the floor, carrying the children, fixing wheelchairs, and preparing whatever meals she can.

For decades, she has devoted her life as both teacher and mother to these children. She calls this place a “home,” though it was never officially registered. It wasn’t built with large funds, but with boundless love.

“I just want these children to have a future… To know that they are precious in God’s eyes,” Sister Theresia says softly.

Some of the children here are orphans. Others still have parents, but cannot be cared for due to poverty. Sister Theresia never asks too many questions. For her, every child who comes will be welcomed the same way—with open arms and a prayer.

Every day, Sister Theresia is everything: teacher, mother, nurse, therapist, and witness of faith. She teaches reading and writing, sings praise songs, and prays the Rosary with the children. She also provides physical and speech therapy—doing all she can to make sure these children never lose hope for a better future.

But as time passes, her burden grows heavier. Her personal savings are gone. She’s spent tens of millions of rupiah. She even began selling her belongings—one by one—to buy rice, medicine, and the children’s essentials. Yet the bills keep piling up, and her strength is not what it once was.

Each night, she kneels before a statue of the Virgin Mary. With the Rosary in hand and tears on her cheeks, she prays that God will send kind-hearted people to help the children.

“Father, if I no longer have the strength… please send kind people to continue Your love for these children.”

Dear Brothers and Sisters in faith, if you’re reading this today, perhaps you are the answer to Sister Theresia’s long prayer. Don’t let this home fade away. Don’t let this place of love lose its heartbeat. Let us be the hands of Christ—loving the weakest and most forgotten. Your help, no matter how small, means the world to Sister Theresia and her children.